


devil's maker

by talionprinciple (Triskai)



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, blood and death and guilt, daud is messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triskai/pseuds/talionprinciple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He killed her.</p><p>And now the rotting corpse of an empire haunts his footsteps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	devil's maker

Daud runs.

Booted feet on slick roof tiles, clickity-clack, just barely enough purchase to prevent him from slipping. Around him, the rain falls with single-minded purpose. He is chilled to the bone and his muscles are stiff with cold, but he will not cannot stop, not until he is gone from here, not until he is safe. His gloves are stained dark with blood, and they drip pink when he clenches his hands into fists.

Something about this isn't right - the odd light, the emptiness in the distance - but his heart is pounding too loud for him to think.

There is a paper in his marked hand and the ink on it is as black as the Void. **YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER YOU KILLED HER** he reads, until the rain washes the words away.

He killed her.

And now the rotting corpse of an empire haunts his footsteps.

The air in his lungs burns and tastes of ashes; he coughs it out and is surprised to find blood on his lips. Blinking from one rooftop to another, he wonders what color his tears would be if he cried.

He Blinks again and he's in the Flooded District, standing on wood that's warped and swollen with the damp. The drapes on the walls are deep blue, patterned with gold, and they twist slowly like snakes. Outside, an unseen star shines violet light through the windows. Illuminated like this, the bloodstains on the floor look almost black.

They shine like the Outsider’s eyes. Maybe it had been blood filling those hollow sockets all along.

Daud follows the blood to a pile of corpses. Some are dressed in gray, others dark blue, and one at the very top a rich dark red. Each and every one of them wears a whaler's mask.

The paper in his hand reads, **YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM**

In front of his eyes, a swarm of rats surges up through the mouldy floorboards and _feasts_.

He looks at the mound of corpses, looks at the rats, looks at the rot. He thinks of red tears on his cheeks, blooming like roses. And he runs.

Daud runs.

**Author's Note:**

> vaguely inspired by various lines of first aid kit's "wolf". i mixed and matched them to make it fit.
> 
> Wolf father, at the door  
> You look so worn, so thin  
> You're a taker, devil's maker  
>  **Let me see you run** , hey ya hey ya


End file.
